She swung back and slid the coffee before him. Her eyes were teasing. "Wouldn't a wife do just as well?"
"A good question," he quipped back. "Come sit down and have coffee with me, and we'll talk it over!"
"What?" She grinned brightly, wide-eyed. "Don't go 'way, now!" She whirled, grabbed a cup and saucer, and filled it. "I'll be right there!" She moved briskly around the end of the counter and perched herself on the stool beside him. "Now! Tell me more!" She began ladling spoon-fulls of sugar into her coffee.
It was a good comedy act, done with a natural flair for perfect timing. Morrow leaned weakly on the counter, laughing silently.
Gwyn gave him a glare of feigned contempt. "Oh! Just another fast-talker, huh? I might have known!" She stirred her coffee furiously. "You engineers are all alike. If father warned me once—"
"Don't overdo it, honey," he cautioned her, lightly. "You know perfectly well I've enjoyed those long goodnight kisses when I've walked you home."
She sobered reflectively. "All right, Bill. But just what was this mid-morning telegram about—or don't you want to tell me?"
It was a casually-spoken question, and the circumstances made it a perfectly logical one. As a research engineer, Morrow worked on a number of things which had top-secret classification, and Gwyn knew he did.
And I'd better classify this, too! Morrow thought slyly.
"Afraid I can't," he answered her, calmly.